Sliver
by Something About Something
Summary: The wait is always the worst.


Disclaimer: Still don't own!

Dedicated to anyone who has ever had to wait. I share your pain.

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The light was playing tricks on her. Staring so long at the sliver of light that made its way into her room through the crack of her door was starting drive her crazy. True, she could get up and close it but that would defeat the purpose of having left it open to begin with.

No matter how many times she had already told herself that he wasn't coming she couldn't keep her eyes away from that sliver of light. The distinct feeling of shame that was growing wasn't enough to make her get up and firmly close the door. And no matter how strongly she was beginning to abhor herself for acting in such in a pathetic manner, it wasn't outweighing her desperate hope that he'd come. Bulma was not supposed to be this meek woman who waited around for any man. She was not supposed to have spent the last two hours watching the sliver of light for a passing shadow that would possibly stop and enter her room. But she had. She was waiting for the Prince of Saiyans, hoping with all her heart that he would walk in to her room and spend the night with her.

Where had she gone wrong? Had it been the first time she realized she actually enjoyed arguing with him? Or maybe it was the first time they had fucked? The first time he slept in her bed after they had sex? And every single time after that? She had always envisioned herself in control but as the time had gone on she realized that she had lost control without even realizing. She prided herself in her ability to detach and stay cool under any situation but here she was desperately waiting for him. The blue-haired heiress had extended him an invitation to join her that evening for their usual romp in the sheets and sleep over but instead of giving her a sure smirk, he'd simply looked at her with a raised eyebrow and walked away. Using her skills of deduction, and the knowledge that he would have clearly said no had he not wanted to join her, she settled that his response was a maybe.

After getting all worked up in her lab about the fact that any male of any species could give _her_ a _maybe_ she realized what she should do. She should make sure that the bastard knows he was no longer welcome that evening and teach him a lesson that Bulma Brief isn't a woman for maybe's! But as much as she should've, she hadn't. She had it bad and it was getting worse with every passing day. How could this have gotten so out of hand? Laying in bed, wearing adorable underwear, having cleaned her room and put out new sheets, she couldn't look away from the stupid crack of the door hoping that she would see his shadow as he walked past her room to his. Hoping that his shadow would stop outside her door and then enter. She'd look up, smile, forget about the wasted time, and prepare for an amazing night ahead.

She smiled a little and then remembered that there was a huge "if" clouding all these plans. If he stopped training, if he remembered her offer, if he could be bothered to come to her room, and the scariest and most pressing "if" of all: if he wanted her at all. For that was the source of this problem, of her inability to look away from the door no matter how uncomfortable it was starting to make her neck. She was scared that he just didn't want her, that she wasn't good enough for him. And unfortunately that fear was starting to eat her alive. Not only was the question itself enough to make her scared and unhappy with but it filled her with a fear of what was happening to her. She wasn't supposed to place her value on what another thought of her, but here she was doing just that. She wondered if this was what infatuation was like and she wondered how exactly one could go about ridding themselves of it. Bulma was tired of looking at the door, of hoping that he would come, of being filled with disgust at herself for feeling this way but still she kept on. Kept on watching, kept on hoping, and kept on wondering just how and why this had come to be.

The night was long and Bulma waited. Letting the light play tricks on her, feeling her heart beat faster every time she thought she saw something, and hoping that any second now the sliver of light would darken and her wait would be over.


End file.
